


this bloom in my heart

by mulkki



Category: TsukiPro the Animation, ツキプロ。 | Tsukipro.
Genre: M/M, SolidS (Tsukipro) - Freeform, Tsukipro, i love torturing my boys, slow burn ig, solids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 11:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11668329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mulkki/pseuds/mulkki
Summary: He knows he should stop thinking about this: he is an adult, he knows better than to get involved in this industry, Dai is young, and there are probably at least a hundred more reasons he hasn’t thought out but nonetheless exist. It all mingles into a breathless need to pull himself back down to earth, and he presses his pillow against his face in an effort to block out,oh my god I’m in love with my younger groupmate.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (tagged this in tsukiuta only because I'm not sure about tagging for tsukipro yet? I'll remove this in the future)

It happens to Rikka on a particular rainy morning, the scent of spring and moist earth cloying as the rain falls around them. They’re headed back from their usual morning jog, cut short by a sudden shower.

“It’s that season after all,” Dai shrugs, pulling his hood up; Rikka does the same, a silent _can’t be helped_ passing between them in glances. They find a roof to wait under, a small outstretched awning along a quiet shopping district yet to open. No one notices them there: just two joggers, waiting out the sudden rain.

The quiet is suddenly cut by a sneeze, from Dai. It’s cute, and subdued, like a child trying to hide--Rikka doesn’t let it pass by, though, and offers him his towel.

“I’m fine,” Dai brushes it aside. “Take care of yourself first.”

Rikka persists. “I have a spare, I’ll be fine. Here, dry yourself off.”

“Seriously...? It’s just like you to be so prepared, but. Where do you carry it all?”

Rikka chuckles. “Trade secret. You learn as you go about this business.” He inches closer to Dai, towel in hand. “Anyways, don’t deflect. You have to dry yourself off even a little, it’s easy to get colds in this season. And you know how Shiki gets about us taking care of ourselves.” He starts forcibly drying his hair, ruffling as much as he can reach--Dai is so tall, and he has to tiptoe a little to reach him.

“--ah, hey-- _mmf_ \--Rikka?! I can do it myself--”

“--Nope, not leaving you alone, especially considering how stubborn you are.”

“Stubborn? You’re one to tal-- _hmmpmpfh_!!” Rikka fluffs the towel in Dai’s face, maybe a little more forcefully than needed, maybe because it’s fun and Dai is cute, and--

“--there we go, nice and dry.” Rikka laughs, giving Dai’s face one last pat. Dai is flushed from the sudden suffocation, hair tousled, and he thinks, _this is such a nice, cute side of Dai_. He wipes a stray drop from his hair. _What would fans think if they saw this side of him? I’m the only one that gets to see him like this, if I think about it._

He stops.

_I’m the only one._

The towel lingers at Dai’s face.

_I’m the only one who gets to see this side of Dai, and I,_

Dai makes a puzzled face at Rikka, and Rikka wonders how he looks right now.

_\--I think I want to keep it that way._

 

\----

Rikka doesn’t sleep well that night.

When did it start? He feels his stomach flip, half from excitement and half _because_ of the excitement. He knows he should stop thinking about this: he is an adult, he knows better than to get involved in this industry, Dai is young, and there are probably at least a hundred more reasons he hasn’t thought out but nonetheless exist. It all mingles into a breathless need to pull himself back down to earth, and he presses his pillow against his face in an effort to block out, _oh my god I’m in love with my younger groupmate._

_When, though?_

The question in his head persists, and he starts going through, in chronological order, of any possible significant times they spent together. He can’t remember anything happening during their beginning days, not even during that first photoshoot. He couldn’t have felt anything then, even if he was more or less staring at Dai’s face the entire time. No, they’d just met, no way. Their first duet, maybe? Oh, wait--

 

*** * ***

 

_“A duet? Me? With Dai?”_

_Shiki pauses, coffee mug halfway to his lips. “Yeah, I thought it’d be interesting. Image-wise and vocally, you two are polar opposites; I thought it’d make a pretty unexpected combination.” He takes a long sip, eyes never leaving his computer screen. “Of course, I’ll write duets for all combinations of us, eventually--but I wanted to shake things up with something surprising this round.” He clicks around a bit, frowns, and clicks again._

_Rikka sips his own coffee, wondering at that last bit. “Then that means the other duet will be you and Tsubasa, hmm.” He chuckles, soft and low. “It’ll be interesting for sure. Though, I think the fans would find your combination even more amazing if they knew how much Tsubasa picks fights with you.”_

_“Your phone.”_

_“Huh?” Rikka looks up--Shiki’s holding his hand out, waiting, his eyes never leaving the screen._

_“I’m going to give you the sample to listen to. Share it with Dai, too.”_

_“O-oh.”_

_Rikka hands over his phone, and watches as Shiki transfers the files over; there are three tracks, one for his parts, one for Dai’s, and one with both parts together. When he’s done and his phone is returned to him, he scrolls through the new additions._

_“_ ‘Shall We Dance’ _?”_

_“Listen to it and let me know what you think in our studio session tomorrow. But don’t forget to rest up, I want you two in top condition.”_

_Rikka_ tsk _s at Shiki. “So you say, while always staying up late. What a leader we have, telling us to ‘take care of ourselves as pros’... and_ definitely _not following that advice himself.”_

_Shiki makes a noncommittal grunt and stays hunched over the screen, not daring to look up at Rikka._

_Rikka sighs. “Who am I kidding. Nothing in the world will move you once you get started like that. All these years I’ve known you, and that one part hasn’t changed at all.” He gets up, putting a hand on Shiki’s shoulder. “At least get_ some _sleep, okay? It’s already midnight.” He gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze, and then leaves to find Dai._

_\---_

_Dai is in his room, quietly reading as usual. He’s taken to reading at night lately--mostly books about music from Shiki, occasionally interspersed by the occasional volume of whatever’s trending that Tsubasa forces on him._

_He knocks first and, when there’s no response, he waits a couple seconds before opening the door._

_“Hey,” he waves from the doorway, when Dai finally glances over his book._

_“Hey,” he replies, pulling his headphones off. “Did you need something?”_

_“Shiki wrote a duet for us--did you know about it?”_

_Dai raises an eyebrow. “Did he? Hm, that’s new. But,” he sits up, putting his book down. “he’s got a record of coming up with crazy ideas, so I guess it’ll take a lot more than that to surprise me now.”_

_Rikka laughs. “That’s true. A duet isn’t so surprising, if you think about it--considering we’re a music group and all.”_

_Dai doesn’t laugh along, but nods his head in acknowledgment. “So. Was that it?”_

_“Huh?”_

_“What you came for.”_

_“Oh!” Rikka pulls up his phone again. “Right, right. I got samples from Shiki, he asked me to share them with you. I thought it’d be nice to at least go over it a bit for tomorrow’s studio session.”_

_Dai’s eyes widen a little. “I’m surprised he finished it so quickly.” After a pause, he asks. “Has he slept these past few days?”_

_Rikka sighs, shrugging helplessly as he connects to Dai’s laptop. “Who knows? Honestly, I feel drained by our schedule lately. And considering how much heavier Shiki’s workload is, I honestly wonder if he’s had time to stop and breathe at all. Anyways,” He starts the transfer, dragging the files over to his desktop. “The title is_ ‘Shall We Dance’ _.”_

_“Have you listened to it yet?”_

_“No, not yet.”_

_“Oh.” Dai pauses at first, then shrugs. “I guess we can find out together.”_

_He hits play and both their attentions turn to the song. It’s a good song, and it works unexpectedly well in bringing both of their voices together in harmony. He can see how Shiki planned to draw out a new side of Dai that differs from his physical image, in his typical “I want to surprise people” way. Rikka is his foil, making both of them stand out in comparison to each other. There will be no way of mistaking their voices for anyone else’s, and he can see Shiki’s strategies at work in the background._

_“‘Give me one chance’, huh…” Dai whispers, as they continue to listen. It might be the dim light, but for a moment Dai seems different. He’s always been a serious, earnest person, but he looks more alive the more he listens to the demo--his eyes have a light in them (it’s probably the computer monitor), and his face is bright, even expectant._

_He likes the song, Rikka realizes. It’s more his temperament, too, despite his tough-looking image--and the instrumentation is interesting, which Rikka knows has caught Dai’s attention. It’s confirmed when he turns to Rikka, nodding with the barest hint of a smile on his face, and Rikka wonders what it means when his heart wavers a little._

_Maybe it’s Shiki’s ridiculously romantic lyrics, especially considering the song is still playing in the background. And maybe Rikka is just tired, and Dai’s sincerity feels reliable, and his shoulder looks inviting, and he did have two photoshoots earlier._

 

*** * ***

 

“Rikka.”

He winces. Shiki’s voice has _that_ tone to it, the one that means he, just now, didn’t meet Shiki’s standards at all, not even _close_. And that this isn’t the kind of quality he expects from him. No matter how often he’s heard it by now, even with knowing the encouraging meaning of “I know you can do better” behind it, even despite years of friendship and understanding: it doesn’t soften the blow much.

“You didn’t sleep very well?” It comes out more a statement than a question, Shiki’s eyes probing him from behind the booth window.

“Ah… how’d you know?”

Shiki _hmph_ s. “Of course I can tell, Rikka--how long have we known each other?” He stops, pausing to press some buttons on the console in front of him. Before Rikka realizes it, he’s already slipping into the booth with him, motioning him to take the headphones off.

“Shiki?”

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it.”

Rikka fumbles with the large clunky headphones, almost dropping it. “Well, when you put it like that…” He laughs, dry and nervous. He thinks about yesterday, and all of last night. “I don’t really know what to do.”

“Don’t know, huh?” Shiki frowns, rubbing his chin in thought. “This isn’t your first time recording a solo, Rikka--you met my expectations with your previous one, and I expected you to only get better. Did you stay up because you couldn’t figure something out? That’s unexpected.”

 _Ah._ Unintentional backhanded comment aside, Rikka realizes they’re having two different conversations: Shiki is in full Musician mode, and with it comes his commitment (tunnel vision) to whatever project they’re currently working on. And really, he should’ve known better than to think they’d have a heart-to-heart over something like what he spent all last night thinking about. During a studio session, no less. He turns back to the music stand in front of him, staring at the sheets like it’ll yield something if he stares it down hard enough. Anything to not meet Shiki’s gaze.

Shiki speaks up suddenly. “When I wrote ‘Lily’, I thought about bringing out your charm full-force.” He gestures to the notes. “It’s a style you’re not exactly unfamiliar with, your earlier solo had a similar feeling. But I wanted more impact this time. I wanted to show growth.” He looks down at the sheet music with Rikka. “The flower imagery, the melodic instrumentation, I thought it would match you well, but hmm…” He shakes his head, words slipping past him and out of his grasp. “...Something feels like it’s missing.”

Rikka breaks away from the sheet music, willing himself to look at Shiki. “What do you think? Any ideas on what I might be missing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, I see--” Rikka stops, realizing what Shiki had actually said. “Wait, _what_? Shiki, that’s… unlike you, I have to say.”

Shiki in turn just shrugs. “I wrote it as it came to me.”

“Huh…”

Shiki makes a noncommittal grunt, and instead turns back to the sheet music. After a pause he breaks his gaze, shaking his head. “Maybe it’ll come to me later.”

“Sorry… I’ll try practicing a bit more.”

Shiki sighs. “I’ll try to work on it a bit more, too. Maybe I can experiment more with the instrumentation…” He walks out, muttering under his breath, words soon unintelligible as he disconnects from the world around him. Rikka gathers his sheet music and walks out after him, wondering about how to express this song, wondering about what Shiki meant, wondering about what’s “missing”.

 

*** * ***

 

_“Wait, Shiki, slow down. Say that again? Did I just hear that right?”_

_Shiki hands Rikka a pile of papers. “I thought this album might be a nice chance to challenge ourselves. You guys progressed a lot faster than I expected, and I’ll be blunt: it made me greedy.”_

_Rikka takes the pile, eyeing Shiki wearily. The dark circles under his eyes are pronounced, but he’s got that stubborn look in his eyes._ Goodness, _he thinks,_ this whole group is just full of stubborn children. __

_“Shiki, you always say that.”_

_He laughs at that, rough and low. He hasn’t slept for days. “You’re right, I do. But I want to make this happen. You and Dai deserve this chance to show your skills.”_

_“...And so you’re adding to our already existing workload by giving each of us solos.”_

_“I’ve already apologized to the company staff.”_

_Rikka sighs. “Well, considering you’re the one who has to deal with the most work as our producer, I can’t really complain about additional workloads.” He thumbs through the papers, glancing through his solo. “You wouldn’t take no for an answer anyways, right?”_

_\---_

_The next couple weeks he visits the studio religiously, working with Shiki who has more or less taken up residence in the control room. They’ve barely wrapped up the duet with Dai but he’s still a constant presence in Rikka’s working days--when he isn’t working on his solo it’s Dai’s turn in the booth, and Rikka really has to hand it to Shiki for being able to concentrate on both for so long._

_Dai is, in a way, a comforting presence--he’s the only other constant in his life other than Shiki during these hectic weeks, and despite the respect Rikka has for Shiki’s musical dedication, he’s more drawn to spend his breaks with Dai. They can breathe easy over lunches and sigh about their solos, confide their nervousness in each other, and reassure each other gently in ways that reinforce them through grueling sessions with Shiki’s ever-direct and blunt comments._

_“Remember when we finished our duet? We thought it was all over.” Rikka chuckles._

_Dai takes a sip of his milk tea. “Hard to believe we finished barely a week ago. Ever since we started our solos, I feel like I’ve spent months in there.” He looks at the sheet music in his other hand. “‘Life in Hard Mode’--yeah, no kidding, this is definitely hard mode.”_

_Rikka pats his shoulder. “It_ is _a different range for your voice, but… you’ll get through it. We’ve managed somehow, so far, just hang in there for a little longer.”_

_Dai laughs, a humorless, sharp exhale. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. It wasn’t too bad with the duet back then, so I can go on. And, it was… it was fun.” He looks at Rikka. “I liked that style, it was different from the others. It…” He pauses, scratching his head. “It was a nice change of pace.”_

_“Yeah, we did manage to pull through pretty well with that one.” It was fun, now that Rikka thought about it. They’d spent a lot of nights together practicing and figuring things out, and even Shiki had complimented the two of them by the time they finished._

_Dai turns back to his sheet music. “This one, though, in comparison…” He runs a tired hand through his hair. “I guess I just gotta power through it.”_

_Just then Rikka’s phone buzzes--it’s the alarm he set, signaling the end of their small break._

_He taps the screen to dismiss it as he gets up. “Well, here I go. My turn.”_

_“Oh, Rikka, here.” Dai holds something out. “Take this for Shiki, he’s probably passed out on the console right about now.”_

_Rikka blinks, then laughs, taking the offered can of coffee. “Thanks, I’m sure he'll need it.”_

_\---_

_The warmth of their brief rest carries Rikka through the rest of the session. It’s oddly comforting, to think Dai also felt the same about their duet--surprising, but comforting. The time they spent together, worrying over the lyrics, the harmonies, suffering Shiki’s strictness together…_

_...He must be more tired than he thought, because he finds himself missing it, and wishing they could spend that time together again. Instead, he immerses himself in those memories to keep himself afloat through the long session. Happily for him, by the end Shiki’s face is a little brighter than before. Something must have gone right._

_“Nice work today, Rikka.”_

_“Hm? Really?” Rikka’s shoulders slump a little in relief, and maybe also exhaustion. “Well, I’m glad to hear it--do you think the recording will turn out well?”_

_“It will.” Shiki nods, and points at the monitor in front of him. It’s all technical lines and waves that he doesn’t have the professional skill set to understand, but Rikka humors him. “This part in particular--you did a nice job portraying the mood of the song.”_

_Rikka just nods. “Uh huh.”_

_“I thought that part was pretty important to setting the mood of the song; the theme is ‘longing’, and it was important to establish the mood in the first half so it would carry on through the bridge and the rest of the song.”_

_Rikka slowly nods, again. “I… see.”_

_“In other words, he’s saying you did a fantastic job, Rikka.”_

_They both turn to the new voice at the door--it’s Tsubasa, holding a bag of convenience store snacks._

_“Tsubasa? What are you doing here? It’s pretty late,” Rikka asks, as Shiki groans next to him._

_“Thought I’d check up on everyone, including our almost-dead darling here. And speaking of, Shiki, it wouldn’t kill you to just compliment people honestly.”_

_Shiki scoffs. “I’ll leave the frivolous complimenting to you.”_

_Tsubasa mirrors the scoff. “‘Frivolous’, please Shiki, it’s called being friendly.” He swings the bag in his face. “And all this, even after I went through the trouble of checking up on you.”_

_Shiki turns back to the monitor. “Don’t need it.”_

_“Yeah? ‘Don’t need it’, my ass, look at this place.” He stretches his arms out, gesturing to the chaos of the room. “It’s a warzone in here, even the cleaning lady is too scared to come in here because you look literally like the dead. When’s the last time you ate?”_

_Shiki doesn’t answer, and Tsubasa continues. “Oh, look at me, I’m the mighty Takamura Shiki, I don’t need to do things like eating and sleeping! That’s for mere mortals, I’m a leader and a_ producer _, I’m so special and beyond normal earthly habits, yadda yadda yadda_ bullshit _, darling…”_

 _He goes on, and Rikka takes the time to slip out as Shiki gets up and starts talking back, about bratty children, and something else about Tsubasa always mouthing off, and how he’s doing this to produce good work, and don’t you care about that,_ honey _?_

_...At any rate, they can go at it on their own._

 

*** * ***

 

“Rikka, I mean this in the nicest way possible. And only comparatively, because you’re always ridiculously pretty and all. But you look _awful_.”

Rikka looks up at Tsubasa, who’s eyeing him with concern--mixed with curiosity, of course, it’s Tsubasa--from the entrance. He puts his pen down, pushing his sheet music aside. “Thanks, Tsubasa, I think… I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine.”

Tsubasa collapses into the nearest chair, letting his backpack fall to the floor. “It’s Shiki, isn’t it? Making his crazy demands as usual, I bet.” He wrinkles his brows and presses his lips into a rigid frown, crossing his arms and lowering his voice in imitation. “Rikka. Why can’t you do this. I expected better from you. I’m gonna make outrageous, unreasonable demands in a very short amount of time and make life hard for everyone.” He drops the pose after a few short moments, draping himself over the table. “Man, just acting as uptight as him is exhausting. I don’t know how he functions at all, he’s crazy.”

Rikka laughs, even though part of Tsubasa’s Shiki imitation manages to hit close to home. “It’s not always Shiki’s fault, Tsubasa; don’t be so hard on him, he handles a lot as both leader and producer. And this isn’t as aggressive a timeline as before, having Haizuki around has really helped with scheduling lately.”

“You spoil him, Rikka.”

“Hmm, really? Though, I guess it could look that way… We’ve been friends for years, and I’ve sort of learned what his weird habits mean.” Rikka looks back down at the music in front of him. “And he does do a lot for us, despite how he acts. Tsubasa, you should know that better than anyone; remember when you two put together your duet?”

Tsubasa starts, suddenly revived by the memory. “I could never forget an experience like that, Rikka, never ever in _all my life_.” He makes a face. “I don’t think I ever understood just how deep his levels of crazy ran until that night--man, I’m exhausted just thinking about it. Did you know? We just threw around _ideas_ for five hours. _Five!_ Maybe if it were during normal human daytime hours it wouldn’t have been that bad, but no, Shiki just had to ‘find inspiration,’ whatever the fuck that means, at some random-ass hour when most normal people sleep!” It’s always an experience to see Tsubasa, usually laid-back and unworried, so worked up--Rikka simply sits by and watches, as Tsubasa counts off each instance of effort on his fingers. “And that was before lyrics, and deciding on parts, and thinking about instrumental arrangements, and Shiki _still_ changing his mind here and there--and mixing, oh my god, the literally unending hell of _mixing_ , Rikka. I seriously thought I was gonna die.”

Rikka reaches over and pats his arm. “And think about it, Shiki usually does all of that on his own, for all of us, and with multiple tracks. Aren’t you glad for it, though? It’s thanks to that we’re able to function as a group.” He smiles. “And, ever since then, you two have gotten along better--admit it.”

Tsubasa shifts, the faintest bit of pink appearing on his cheeks. “Yeah, well. I guess you could say we’re… closer, sorta, because of that. At least, I _did_ get to know him better.” He pouts. “I still think he’s inhuman, seriously, no one can be… that, _that_. He’s just,” He makes a vague gesture with his hands, in the direction of Shiki’s office. “That.”

Rikka nods. “Ah, yeah. _That._ ” He flashes back to endless late-night clicking, countless remnants of coffee cans, the giant crash that comes when he finally collapses in place--from completion or exhaustion, whichever comes first. “That can only be Shiki.” He sighs deeply before picking up his sheet music again. “It’s hard to match his dedication sometimes, but... it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try. We should at least try to meet him along the way, when he’s already doing so much for us on his own.”

“Rikka, please stop, you’re such a saint it’s literally killing me.” Tsubasa drapes a dramatic hand across his forehead. “Someone who cast aside my shoe collection like that is not worth pitying. It’s why you’re my favorite here, Rikka, you appreciate my shoes. Anyways.” Tsubasa leans over, craning his neck to look at the papers. “Is that your new solo? Is that what Shiki’s giving you such a hard time over?” He sees the shadow pass over Rikka’s face. “Ah, sorry… touchy subject?”

Rikka shakes his head. “No, no… not at all, I’m just having a bit of difficulty getting it right.”

“Ah… let me guess, today’s studio session didn’t go all that well?” Rikka usual good posture falters for a second, and the dark cloud reappearing over his face is enough to make Tsubasa inhale sharply. “That bad, huh?” Rikka just nods.

Tsubasa pulls the papers out of Rikka’s hands, glancing through them. “‘Lily’?” He reads through the lyrics. “It definitely seems like your aesthetic. Kinda like your last solo… but different.”

“Shiki said the same thing, actually.”

Tsubasa’s eyes give him a once-over, glancing high, low, then high again. “I mean, look at you--you _exude_ that kind of charm.”

“Tsubasa, _please_.”

“Haha, kidding, kidding! Though really, well, only sorta kidding. Let’s be real, Rikka.”

“I don’t know. If I really were suited for it, I’d get this song better, wouldn’t I?”

“Well…” Tsubasa leafs through the papers again. “You nailed it last time with ‘Good Night’. But if I had to say, hmm... I’d say ‘Good Night’ was more, ahh, what’s the word… _passive_? Than ‘Lily’.”

“Huh?”

He ruffles his hair, trying to put his thought into words. It’s rare to see Tsubasa tongue-tied, and Rikka almost feels better that even someone like Tsubasa is struggling to grasp this. “Y’know… the tone of ‘Good Night’ was a little sad, a little passive, kind of just _longing_ for something. But ‘Lily’ here is really passionate and forceful, yanno? Like if they were characters, the former would be the side character quietly pining on the sidelines while the latter would be fighting the main love interest, and _just going for what they want_ even if it ends up being a losing battle.”

“...Huh.”

Tsubasa scratches his head again. “So like. Bring out that seduction full-force, Rikka! Go for it like you’re really luring someone into falling for you, something like that! Though… Rikka, have you ever had to get anyone to fall for you? Seems to me like it’d be the opposite--more like, there'd be a line out the door for you.”

“Tsubasa… please stop.” Rikka buries his face in his hand--how Tsubasa can always be so direct and unabashed, he’ll never know.

Tsubasa shrugs and drops the sheets back on the table as he gets up. “Well, Rikka, you act all embarrassed about it, but let’s be real. I’ve seen you in photoshoots, and we all know if anyone would pull this off among this group, it’s you. Well, I guess I could give it a try too, I mean, I’m charming and brilliant and could probably figure it out. But anyways,” He winks and gives him a thumbs up. “Just go for it! What do you want, Rikka? Think about something you want, imagine it, and go for it--take it in your hands!”

 _What I want,_ huh. Rikka thinks, a little glumly. When Dai’s face comes to mind, he isn’t even surprised at himself anymore.

_What do I want, indeed._

 

\-----

 

 

_“Is that really what you want, Rikka? To quietly fade away as some civil servant and leave your model life behind?”_

_“Well, even if you ask me that, I… I just don’t see a future in this path. Honestly, I don’t know what I want, or if I ever wanted this path, or where I want to go.”_

_“Then why not try something new? Actually, why not join me in my project?”_

Rikka turns and tosses all night. The old memories echo in his head, punctuated by the soft _tick-tock_ of the clock in the background. That was how it had all started, all those ages ago, and who could’ve known that time, at that bar, would have led to this? He’d called Shiki to talk about his own withdrawal from the entertainment industry, and yet after so long--honestly, he’s lost track of the time--here he was. Part of a music group, of all things.

He hadn’t known what he wanted, only what he thought he should do, and being a civil servant was a safe choice--safer than being a model. He could have probably landed a decently comfortable government job and lived out his days in humble peace. Being a model was too uncertain, and he couldn’t see a far enough future down that path.

He looks back now. He can’t see a future down that model path, like he remembered. And surprisingly enough, he can’t see a path down the civil servant road anymore--the one he thought would be safe. It’s a bit scary. He can’t see anything other than the path he’s on right now, as a part of SolidS. It’s this, or black, black nothing.

He turns away, facing what’s visible.

He sees Shiki, Tsubasa, and Dai. He sees the moment they met, he sees the times they spent together, he sees the effort they’ve shared so far, and, most importantly, the path moves on and on far into the distance, beyond what he can see. There are future projects, some of which he already knows--Tsubasa is hyped up about some style collaborations they’ve started planning, and he’s already roped Rikka into helping him. There are future albums in store, with songs pouring out of Shiki’s ever-active mind--there’s no way he’ll want to disband when he wants to make so much more, and this is where he gets to truly unleash his musical talent. Hell, he’s even heard Haizuki mention something about acting the other day. There is a life ahead for SolidS, there’s so much in the future for them.

 

And then there’s Dai.

Dai, the one who gives him an excuse to get out of bed that early in the morning; Dai, the one who matches his pace when they jog together. Dai, the one who helped him realize his love for modeling again, Dai, the one who was there for him when they struggled through their first solos. Dai, kind and considerate underneath his gruff awkwardness. Dai, who’ll play Clair de Lune for you when you ask on a selfish whim.

Dai, who loves coffee with milk and sugar. Dai, the one who would rather stay in and quietly read, Dai, the one who lights up and starts talking, uncharacteristically excited, when you ask him about the kind of music he likes.

Dai, on a rainy morning, drops in his hair and cheeks flushed red.

Dai asks him. _What do you want?_

 

“I want a future with you,” he cries.

 

 

\-------------

 

“Okay, Rikka. We’re going to start in 5, 4, 3--” Shiki silently cues the rest, and the music starts.

The familiar intro starts, the piano’s chords preparing the way for his own voice. _Like the ticking of the clock, alone in my room--_

 _\--Oh my god,_ he thinks, thinking back to his restless night. _This is ridiculous._ There’s a limit to coincidences, he sighs at Shiki, quietly. Honestly, him and his lyrics, sometimes. Every time.

 _Hello, hello,_ the song teases in return. _‘Hello, hello,’ indeed._ He thinks he sees a familiar flash of silver out of the corner of his eye. _Hello, hello._

 _I want you._ Come here, come on in. I want _you_.

 

\-------------

 

 

“I’m home,” he calls out, to the dark hallway. He can make out a dim light in the living room, but no one answers. It isn’t until he gets closer that he notices Dai, lounging on the couch, reading.

Rikka softly taps him on the shoulder. “Hey, I’m back--is everyone else out?”

Dai jumps a little, but relaxes at seeing Rikka. “Oh, welcome home. Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” He puts the book down. “Yeah, Shiki said he’d be late because he’s finishing the last bits of mixing, and Tsubasa… I think he has something with his school circle.” He gives a small shrug.

“Oh, I see…” Rikka flops down on the couch, across from Dai. “Well, sounds like it’ll be a quiet, relaxing night--I could use it, finishing up ‘Lily’ today was a lot of effort.”

“Ah, yeah…” Dai trails off, looking like he wants to say something but the words won’t quite come to mind. In the end, he settles on: “Nice work today. You sounded great.”

“Really?” Rikka’s heart jumps a little--he thought he had seen Dai in the studio, but wasn’t sure of it until now. “Were you there? What did you think?”

“Oh, uh, yeah… I was there. I thought observing might help, that’s all.” His hands clasp together, fingers lacing and unlacing. “You sounded good, it really had impact. And Shiki seemed really excited over how it was going.”

“R-really?” It always feels good to be complimented by Dai, and he can feel his face growing warm. Shiki stays professional and stoic, Tsubasa is always hyperbolic and too flirtatious for his own good, but Dai--Dai is sincere in his words and his actions, and his kind words feel believable, perhaps because they’re so rare.

“Yeah, really.” He runs a hand through his hair. “To be honest, it makes me a bit nervous for my own solo--and it’ll be after Tsubasa, too, and,” He gestures to himself, “You know how different we are. He’s, well. He’s definitely got more flair, or charm, or, you know… and after seeing you, too, I feel like I have a lot of work to do to be on par with you guys.”

Rikka’s heart drops a little. “Dai…”

Dai gets up suddenly, picking up his book. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. I’ll practice hard, that’s what I can do.”

There’s a stab in Rikka’s heart, and the look on Dai’s face only drives it deeper. Dai, sincere, earnest, and at times misguided in his self-deprecation--he can’t let Dai fall down this pit again. Or maybe that’s just an excuse for his own selfish wishes, with seemingly-well intentions overlaying it. But he’s had a long day, he’s tired, Shiki is always overambitious, and well. Maybe Rikka is, too. So he decides, against any sensible judgment, to open his mouth.

“I’ll let you in on something--about how I pulled off today’s recording session.”

That stops Dai in his tracks, and he turns back, looking at Rikka with curiosity, confusion, apprehension, and something he can’t quite place. He goes on.

“I had a lot of difficulty figuring out how to properly convey the emotions in ‘Lily’, you know. Shiki said I was missing something when we started recording it, and I spent a lot of time thinking about that.” He pulls out a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket, unfolding it and reading the lyrics. “The song is about desire, about wanting someone so strongly, about wanting that someone with you, always. And you see, I realized I didn’t know what I wanted.”

Dai stands there, silent and staring. He can’t turn back after this.

“At least, until recently.” There’s a circled phrase on the lyric sheet and a handwritten note next to it. He hands it to Dai. “Once I realized it, I thought about it all throughout today’s recording session--you could say it really inspired me, not just with this song but to do better for the future.”

Dai takes the paper and reads the note. “‘Rainy morning’?” He looks up at Rikka, lost.

“Well.” Rikka breathes, fighting to keep his voice even. “There’s a certain person I go running with every morning. Including the rainy ones.”

It takes a while, but eventually Dai’s face slowly flushes pink, then red. He steps back, face in hand. “Wait. Wait a minute. I.” He looks at Rikka, flustered. It makes Rikka blush, too-- _funny how this embarrassment is contagious_ , he thinks. “Hold it. Are you saying… you… you thought of,” He stops, and the next barely registers as a whisper. “Of me?”

Rikka nods, stepping closer and taking his hand, the one still clutching the sheet. “Now who says you’re not charming? Because you are, and my song today is proof of that.”

The way Dai _crumples_ is spectacular--it’s a slow teeter-totter like a tall tower, losing the last of its foundation, and finally he folds into himself, hiding his face in his free hand, red to the tips of his ears. “Wait.” It comes out muffled, and Rikka leans down to hear. “Wait. It almost sounds like, you.”

He’s come this far, and if he has to spell it out for him, he will. “Sounds like what? I’m in love with you?” He crouches down, level with Dai. “That’s good, because yes. I am.”

Dai shakes his head. “No. No way. You’re too… too nice. You’re just saying that… aren’t you? Because there’s no way you would, not when I li--”

“--you what?”

Dai stands up suddenly, and Rikka feels himself being pulled up by the sheet they’re still holding onto, for some reason. “Please don’t play with me like this, Rikka. You’re probably just trying to make me feel better, since you’re nice like that--”

“--I’m not that nice.” Rikka stops him by taking his other hand. “If I really were, I’d bury these feelings, and let you go on to a comfortable future with someone more stable and young and pretty. But Dai, I _want you_. A lot. Selfishly.” He grips his hand tight. “And despite this I did mean it when you inspired me, Dai. I owe this song to you.”

Dai falters. “You… This. This is too much,” he gestures wildly, “all of this, whatever this is. Are you… are you seducing me?”

Rikka laughs, finally, clear and open. “Oh good. You’re finally getting it--yes, I am seducing you. Because yes, I’m in love with you.” He brings his hand to Dai’s face, pulling him down into a kiss, his own lips pressing against Dai’s. When he breaks away he’s still slack-jawed and wide-eyed--it’s cute. It’s _Dai_. “Are you convinced yet?”

Dai blinks, thoughts finally registering. “Oh.”

“‘Oh’, indeed.”

A hesitant arm finds its way around Rikka’s waist. “Really?”

“Really really.”

“Can… can I kiss you, too?”

Rikka’s heart might burst in the next few seconds, and when the feeling of warm hands against his back sends a rush through his chest that leaves him lightheaded, he thinks it wouldn't be a bad way to go. He anchors himself by wrapping his arms around Dai’s neck, and pulls him in. “No need to even ask.”

They kiss a second time, then a third, fourth, breathlessly until Rikka loses count. Dai’s lips are gentle, too gentle, and Rikka opens his mouth in encouragement, inviting him in. His hands wind in short hair as Dai’s arms draw Rikka in closer, bodies fitting together and breaths mingling as one.

They break for breath, and Dai’s forehead rests against Rikka’s. “I can’t believe this is happening. This is going to be the most embarrassing dream to wake up from.”

“Might as well take advantage of the dream, then, right?” Rikka smiles, then, as Dai’s lips meet his again.

**end**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: tfw ur so worked up over these dumb boys, you dumbass forget a whole section o<-< the most important section at the end, even
> 
> anyways
> 
> i started this ages ago when lily came out and the lyrics are pretty thirsty, ya feel
> 
> and then work killed me until rikka's new solo teaser came out and my feels were revived
> 
> anyway this started as a character study and then i went into life in fujo mode, sorry rikka, sorry dai, you two are so pure... and also, a lot of jokes at shiki's expense and tsubasa being a sassy baby happened, and im pretty sure i've indirectly written the plot to a shoujo manga that exists somewhere out there, this is so self indulgent and i really have no excuse
> 
> quietly cries into my hands by myself in this fandom of like me and idk who else is even into tsukipro, i. please love tsukipro, please love these dumb boys


	2. living in hard mode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dai's side of the first round of solos

“Shiki, this song, um. What was your thought behind it?”

Shiki blinks up at Dai from behind his growing mountain of coffee cans and crumpled paper. “What do you mean?”

“Well, for example, this part where you wrote, ‘I’m drawn to older people’.”

“What about it?”

“I was just thinking, and.” Dai shrugs, running a hand through his hair. He tries to keep his voice even, but there’s no fighting the blush spreading across his face. “It’s kind of out of nowhere, don’t you think?”

Shiki shrugs, and keeps clicking around on his computer. “Just wrote it as it came to me. For some reason I get that feeling from you.”

“Huh?”

“Leave him, Dai-chan, since when does Shiki ever make sense?” Tsubasa calls out from the sofa across the room, not bothering to look up from his magazine.

“I make more sense than you, Tsubasa.”

“What? That’s rich, coming from the guy who invited strangers to form a music group with him out of the blue.”

“That’s also rich, coming from said person who accepted, and then dragged their friend in.”

“ _Guys_.” 

When neither of them respond, and only glare at each other from behind their respective work, Dai takes the cue to leave. He’s not going to deal with these two, not like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look, tsukipro, you can't have a chara like dai and have charas like rikka and the others all older than him and then include "IM DRAWN TO OLDER PEOPLE" in a solo he sings, tsukipro, stop it, you can't do this to me


	3. flying through a night of wishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> behind the scenes two: that night tsubasa crashed shiki's studio

Tsubasa stomps on the arm of Shiki’s chair, leaning in. “Oh, look at me, I’m the mighty Takamura Shiki, I don’t need to do things like eating and sleeping, that’s for mere mortals, I’m a leader and a _producer_ , I’m so special and beyond normal earthly habits, yadda yadda yadda. _Bullshit_ , darling.”

He goes on, and Rikka takes the time to slip out as Shiki gets up and starts talking back. “Well, aren’t you just the smartest little brat. You’re always mouthing off about being so talented but we both know what it really takes to make good work. And you know I’m doing this to produce good work, and don’t you care about that, _honey_?”

They’re standing chest-to-chest now, Shiki glowering down at Tsubasa, Tsubasa not yielding an inch. Tsubasa smirks, then, and pushes Shiki back down into his chair. “What a pushy producer. Being so rough with the talent, especially a young and delicate boy like me, tsk, tsk, tsk.” He drops the plastic bag somewhere to the side, he doesn’t really care, and climbs on to his lap, straddling him.

Shiki scoffs, but lets him climb on him, holding him in place by cupping his hands behind Tsubasa. “‘Young and delicate’, _please_. You weren’t that when we debuted, and you certainly haven’t learned anything about delicacy since then.”

“Hah! That’s hilarious, coming from _you_ of all people. You gotta know, Shiki, about how you have zero tact.” He clings to Shiki’s shoulders, body shaking with laughter. “Pfft. Oh man, you’re a goddamn _riot_. I’ll never get sick of you.” He grabs a fistful of Shiki’s collar and crushes his lips against his.

Shiki responds in kind, hands digging into Tsubasa’s hips as they kiss, breathe, kiss, _bite_ , and when Tsubasa breaks for air Shiki works around his neck, sending Tsubasa into moans. “Goddammit, _ahh don’t stop_ \--wait, no, stop, we have a shoot coming up, _Shikiiii…_ ” He trails off as Shiki mutters about work and shifts to yank Tsubasa down by his shirt to kiss him again, forceful, _hard_. It goes on for ages until Tsubasa finally breaks away, breathless and lips slick. “Don’t yank this shirt too hard, I like it, _asshole_.”

“Takes one to know one,” Shiki replies, not missing a beat, squeezing his hands around Tsubasa’s ass for emphasis. Tsubasa wriggles deeper into Shiki’s lap.

“Nngh… I hate you, you know that?”

“Love you too, honey.”

He mouths at Shiki’s exposed collarbone. “Shut up and kiss me again, I can’t leave like this anyway.”

“You’re not worried about where we are?” Shiki’s voice rumbles low in Tsubasa’s ears, as his thumbs slip under his waistband. Tsubasa sighs, deeply, then presses himself deeper into Shiki’s lap, mouth working his way up to his jaw, leaving a trail.

“Oh, shut up, no one’s gonna come in here--like I said earlier, even the cleaning lady is too scared of you.”

Shiki laughs. “What a spoiled brat. Don’t blame me if--”

The door opens, suddenly, and both of them jump in the crowded seat.

“Shiki, are you there?” Dai opens the door, sheet music in hand. “I wanted to talk about my solo session tomorrow--”

“--Oh.”

“Oh.”

“Uh.” Dai blinks. “I’ll show myself out.” He slams the door shut, a little too quickly.

 

Tsubasa sighs, a long, frustrated noise ending in a whine. “Ughhhhh, _Shiki_ , you totally jinxed it!”

Shiki just shrugs, stonefaced as usual. “Well, I don’t think he’ll come back.” His hands slip lower under his waistband. “So we could continue?”

“Oh my god. You’re the worst.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rikka and dai are pure and angelic, and then. and then you get these two, and the fujo flows so freely, shrugs into the abyss


End file.
